


The Family Plot

by sebastien_lee



Category: Jeeves & Wooster, Jeeves - P. G. Wodehouse
Genre: Canonical Character Death, M/M, Past Character Death, Romance, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-19
Updated: 2014-05-19
Packaged: 2018-01-25 17:00:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1655822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sebastien_lee/pseuds/sebastien_lee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I like to think it happened this way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Family Plot

Late afternoon sun shines softly on row after row of marble and granite. The light catches a statue now and again and from these statues spring towering forms, fierce guardians of their plots, no longer the mournful angels and cherubim left behind by well-intentioned family. The sweet and gentle smell of cherry blossoms caresses the air as a warm breeze sweeps over the cemetery. Ducks gently bob on the clear pond while small fleets of ducklings natter loudly after each parent’s call.

Down the white gravel path strolls a middle-aged couple, quietly enjoying the peace and beauty around them. The woman stops at a plot that obviously belongs to a well-to-do family. It seems that the majority buried here were married during their lives, judging by the prevalence of double headstones and shared memorials.

She takes her time looking at the stones, some fairly aged, a few sporting a more modern style. A particular headstone catches her eye.

“How strange, Arthur, look, this one is different. The second name on this headstone does not match the family.”

“Which one, dear?”

“This one, this double-faced one. Look, this name matches the others: Bertram Wilberforce Wooster 1900 to 1980. But the other name here, Reginald Jeeves, 1896 To 1975…do you think he was a cousin, perhaps? Or maybe he was an adopted child? But how odd to not change his name when he entered the family. And where is Mrs. Jeeves?”

“Er…yes, how odd.” He is ready to leave, but she detains him, her hand pressed lightly on his arm.

“A bit odd, yes, but what a beautiful epitaph:

Oh! ever loving, lovely, and beloved!  
    How selfish Sorrow ponders on the past,  
    And clings to thoughts now better far removed!  
    But Time shall tear thy shadow from me last.  
    All thou couldst have of mine, stern Death! thou hast;  
    The Parent, Friend, and now the more than Friend:  
    Ne’er yet for one thine arrows flew so fast,  
    And grief with grief continuing still to blend,  
Hath snatched the little joy that Life had yet to lend.

-Lord Byron

I wonder if this Bertram fellow had it engraved for him. Perhaps they were dear friends?”

“Quite dear, by the sound of it.” He slowly inches along the path but is once more stopped, this time by the look on his wife’s face and the sound of her voice.

“Hmm…Arthur, should I…should I happen to pass on before you, you _will_ write something lovely like this, won’t you dear?”

“Yes, of course, darling, but come along. We have yet to reach your family plot and it has started to get dark.”

The couple continues along the path, making their way slowly to another family plot much further into the cemetery. As they pass, the sun slips below the horizon and dusk quietly skims over the graves.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm archiving some of my very old works from LiveJournal.


End file.
